novelSusiti Chapter 317 The King's Gaze
Chapter 317 The King's Gaze
Chapter 317 The King's Gaze
The Marquess of Salisbury tapped the table with his knuckles.
"The meeting is adjourned."
He uttered two words, his voice hoarse, filled with suppressed anger.
The British delegation felt as if they had been granted a pardon, hastily packing their documents and fleeing the suffocating meeting room.
Salisbury did not move.
Alone, he walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window, his back to the empty conference table, and looked out at the gray, unchanging London sky.
Constantine's last words kept echoing in his mind.
"The future is irresistible."
Madness!
How arrogant!
How dare a greenhorn from a poor, small country in the Balkans declare the death of the old order in front of all of Europe?
Salisbury lived for over sixty years. He met Bismarck, the Iron Chancellor of Germany, and played cards with Prince Gorchakov of Russia. He spent his entire life battling against some of the world's most ambitious political figures.
He was used to being in control of everything.
He was accustomed to using the immense power of the British Empire to crush all those who disobeyed.
But today, for the first time, he felt a long-lost sense of apprehension from this young man.
The other party lacked Bismarck's iron will and Gorchakov's cunning.
It was something he had never seen before.
A terrifying decisiveness that uses the future trend as a weapon and everyone's desires as chess pieces, willing to overturn the entire chessboard in order to create a completely new game!
This is not the work of a politician.
This demonstrates the vision and courage of a founding monarch.
The Marquess of Salisbury's Adam's apple bobbed. He had to admit that from the very beginning, he had completely underestimated this young man from the Balkans.
During the recess, the corridor outside the conference hall became another unseen battlefield.
Representatives from France, Italy, and Austria-Hungary gathered together, speaking in hushed tones in their respective languages, engaged in a heated discussion. Constantine's "package deal" had a profound impact on them.
The potential benefits were too tempting for them to resist.
Constantine did not try to win over anyone.
He simply stood quietly at the other end of the corridor, away from the noisy crowd.
He took out the gold pocket watch engraved with the double-headed eagle emblem from the pocket of his vest.
"Click".
The watch cover was opened.
He lowered his eyes and looked at the dried, yet still deep red rose petal inside the watch cover.
He took out a clean white handkerchief and carefully, again and again, wiped the smooth, cold metal casing of the pocket watch.
His movements were slow and focused.
It was as if the clamor of the whole world had nothing to do with him.
He could feel that the thin petal, through a layer of metal, was continuously transmitting an invisible force to his palm.
Behind him stood his kingdom, and his queen.
Behind him stood his Athena.
He was fearless.
Venizelos, like a fish swimming through reeds, quietly blended into the group of representatives from various countries who were engaged in heated discussions.
During a break in the meeting, he "accidentally" bumped into a commercial attaché from the French embassy in the tea room.
The two men, sipping their coffee, chatted about the London weather.
At the end of the conversation, Venizelos made a seemingly casual remark.
"Sir, I personally greatly admire the design of your country's 'Dreadnought'-class warships. I've heard that your shipyard is currently developing a new type of armor steel with superior performance."
He paused, looked into the other person's eyes, and added a meaningful remark.
"If our vision for a new order in the Eastern Mediterranean can garner the initial support of some visionary friends, then I believe the Greek Navy's future flagship would be happy to prioritize the adoption of advanced French technology."
After saying that, he smiled, clinked glasses with the other person, and turned to leave.
The French consul was left standing there, coffee cup in hand, frozen in place. A storm raged in his mind.
This is Venizelos, as a top politician, adding a second layer of insurance to his king's grand blueprint.
The king is responsible for pointing out the direction, while politicians are responsible for paving the way.
Negotiations begin again.
When the Marquess of Salisbury returned to his seat, a slight smile appeared on his face.
Contrary to his usual behavior, he took the initiative to speak.
"Your Highness," he said, spreading his hands gracefully, "that to demonstrate the British Empire's sincerity for peace and respect for your personal wisdom, I can personally decide that, regarding the ownership of the southern slopes of the Drino Valley, the British will no longer insist on international joint administration, fully respecting the sovereignty of the Kingdom of Greece."
This is a huge concession.
A sweet trap.
He wanted to use a small, localized victory to satisfy the Greeks' appetites and thus undermine Constantine's grand and terrifying "package solution." Once his opponents accepted this bait, the rhythm of the game would be back in his control.
All eyes were on Constantine.
Constantine smiled.
He looked at Salisbury with a polite but distant smile.
"Thank you for your generosity, Your Excellency Marquis."
His voice was calm, but carried an undeniable firmness.
"But what I've brought today isn't a dish that can be pieced together and bargained over. It's a complete, indivisible menu."
"Or, I'll accept everything."
Constantine's voice resonated powerfully in the silent conference hall.
"Or, let's not talk about anything at all."
He looked directly into the Marquess of Salisbury's eyes, which had instantly darkened.
Constantine leaned forward slightly.
He broke the silence between them in a voice that only the two of them could hear, like a lover's whisper.
"I never fight a battle I'm not prepared for."
"Whether on the battlefield or at the card table."
Constantine's gaze, like two scalpels, dissected all of the other's pretense.
"Your Excellency, please don't be in a hurry."
"This game has only just begun."
The Marquess of Salisbury's pupils suddenly shrank to the size of a dangerous pinpoint!
That instant.
He saw in those excessively young blue eyes something he had only ever seen in a very few of Europe's most powerful monarchs.
That was the culmination of a will as firm as a rock, wisdom as deep as an abyss, and ambition as vast as the burning sky—
The weight of the crown.